Word: fogs
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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John Chesher, 39, who got paid only for time he was in the air, elected to fly. So thick was the fog that he first scouted the concrete apron on foot to spot parked planes so he would not run into them as he taxied out. Then he got an airport mechanic to walk ahead of him and through the mist point the way as he inched the plane toward takeoff...
...less than 1,000 ft. down a runway that had a 4,000-ft. take-off minimum.* Nevertheless, the C-46's engines surged, and the plane lumbered off down the runway. Moments later there was an explosive crash. When rescue crews finally groped their way through the fog, they found the C46 mangled and torn on a taxiway to the left of the runway. Twenty-two passengers in the crumpled, burning nose section were dead. Twenty-six in the broken-off tail section got out alive with various stages of injury. The dead included 16 members...
...formal hearing, his license was suspended last July by FAA, and Arctic-Pacific was fined $16,000. Chesher appealed and, pending a review, he was free to fly. When rescue workers recovered his body from the wreckage, they found it strapped in the right-hand cockpit seat. Despite the fog, Donald Chesher had apparently turned over the pilot's seat to a less-experienced man: Copilot Howard Perovich, 30 (whose mother and sister-in-law died with him in the crash...
...small comfort to San Luis Obispo that the FAA belatedly grounded all Arctic-Pacific planes. Through the week, while its flags hung at half mast, the town was as glum as the cool, grey fog that rolled in from the Pacific. Cal Poly remembered Halfback Vic Hall, an alternate 400-meter sprinter on the 1960 Olympic team. Vic wore contact lenses and had not wanted to play football, but the weak team needed him for his exceptional speed, so he had agreed to play. There was Curtis Hill, an end from Bakersfield, a smiling, studious, religious boy who had walked...
...contrast to these dreams, life on the African home farm is twisted in a pattern of almost Faulknerian grotesquerie; Daphne's uncle is in bondage to his farm manager through an unavenged adultery a generation back; Auntie lies year long in a whisky fog with a loaded revolver at her bedside; her one friend is a boozy Cambridge expatriate who must, for his own reasons, falsify what "home" is like. Society at the local dorp is of inconceivable tedium, and only the natives in their kraals suggest that life lived on its own terms may be a good thing...